The Western Window
by meteor9
Summary: A Christms fic! But be warned, there's no Santa or Reindeer in this one. In fact, it's about a brief moment in Virginia's childhood. Be warned, it's sad.


**_The Western Window_**

A/N  We never hear much about Ekatrina, or how she died, or what she was like….

Not exactly the happiest Christmas story, and if for some reason anyone actually pays attention to my rantings, I once said that fics with holidays that don't exist in the fic world irk me.  So I'm going to irk myself.  Yay!!  

Other than that, I don't own Wild ARMS 3, nor do I own any semblance of a sound mind…nerts…

Oh, and I don't remember if Ekatrina died before or after Yggsdrasil, so I'll assume 'before.' That way it can snow.

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            Sitting calmly against the wall near her mother's room, a little chestnut-haired girl patiently passed the time staring at her hands, which were folded in her lap.  Soon enough she began to tap her fingers on her knee, nodding her head along with the rhythm.  She half-heartedly whispered the song's lyrics, with barely a few syllables actually audible.  As more time passed, she started to gently rock back forth, no longer tapping, but still whispering, only faster this time.  A minute passed, and she shut her eyes tight, and buried her head against her knees, and kept rocking.

            Somewhere over the last couple of days, she had overheard one of the doctors mention "final visits", and given her mother's current condition…

            She may have only been six years old, but she knew what that meant.  It meant her mother would not live much longer.  Crying silently into her dress, she continued rocking, waiting for the doctor to emerge from the room with her father and bring the inevitable news.

            Quietly, the door opened, and the girl's father emerged.  Taking one last look in the room, he sighed, and shut the door.  He would have walked right by his daughter had he not heard her muffled sobbing.  Kneeling down in front of her, he placed his large hand on her shoulder.  The little girl looked up at her father.  His face was tired, and his eyes bore a growing sadness, one that deepened with each passing day.  She sniffled a bit, and then dove into his arms, no longer trying to hide her sobs.  He held her tight, and shed his own tears.

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            Later that night, the little girl and her father sat at the kitchen table.

            "Daddy…what's going to happen?"

            Taking a look at his daughter, he decided there was no reason not to tell her.  "Dr. Henderson said she has…three weeks.  I'm sorry, Virginia…"

            She stared intently at the tabletop for what seemed like hours, but eventually responded, "We should cancel the Christmas Ball, then."

            "No, Virginia.  Your mother wants to go to the ball."

            "But… it's in two weeks.  She couldn't handle it, could she?"

            "Your mother doesn't want to  spend her last days trapped in a bed.  She wants to spend Christmas with us.  That's what she wants, so that is what's going to happen."

            "…yes Daddy..."

            The little girl watched her father get up from the table and walk over to her.  "Come on, Virginia, it's time for bed.  Let's go say goodnight to Mommy."  Taking his hand, she followed him up the stairs.

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            The snow fell gently on the town of Boot Hill.  White lights were strung through the trees and on the rooftops, and although it was snowing, the night sky was remarkably clear.  Men and women lined the streets of the marketplace, bracing against the cold while they shopped.  Window displays were filled with sparkling lights and fancy trinkets, and a small crowd would gather at each window, enjoying the spectacle.

            Meandering through the crowds was a little girl with a purpose.  Ignoring all the store fronts to her side, she made a straight line through the crowd, heading towards on shop at the end of the strip.  In fact, she hardly noticed the little boy that ran up to her.

            "Hey Virginia!  What'cha doing?" inquired the little boy, no more than eight years old.

            "Hi Neil.  I'm going shopping for my Mommy's Christmas present.  You wanna come?"

            Rubbing the back of his head, he stammered "Um…Sorry, I gotta… um… do something with my old man.  Yep, that's it!  We're decorating the… um… tree today."

            Her mind focused on her mission, she completely missed the obvious lie.  "Oh, that's okay, then.  I'll see you soon…"  She continued on her way, leaving the little boy behind.  He gave a sigh of relief and ran off to the candy store.

            She reached her destination:  Madam Julian's Boutique.  Stopping to look in the window, she caught a glimpse of the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen.  It was a simple, yet elegant design, crimson, and made of what must have been silk.  And at that moment, hand slipped it and pulled it from the window.  Heartbroken, she walked into the store in hopes of finding something similar.  

            She heard a woman talking at the counter, and noticed that the woman had the crimson dress from out front.  She approached the counter in time to hear the woman complain about the service, and in a huff, the woman left the dress on the counter and stormed out into the street.  Ecstatic, the little girl poked her head over the counter and asked how much the dress cost.  Upon the clerk's answer, the little girl produced the necessary gella for the dress.  The dress nearly cost all of the gella the little girl's father had given to her, but it was worth it.  She spent the remaining gella to have it wrapped.

"What should the tag say, little miss?"

            "To: My Mommy, Ekatrina.  From: Daddy and Ginny.  Merry Christmas, Mommy."

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            On December Twenty-fifth, the little girl gave her mother a Christmas gift.  She opened it and thanked the little girl for the beautiful dress.  That night, the little girl's mother put on the dress in preparation for the Christmas Ball that her family hosts every year.  She looked beautiful in her dress.  In fact, the little girl's father couldn't wait any longer and asked her mother to dance.  The little girl quickly put on a record and set the music in motion, and her father and mother danced for a while.  The little girl knew that her mother was hurting, but from the scene in front of her, she couldn't tell.   Her mother and father both looked so happy.  The little girl ran up beside them, and the three of them danced together.  As they danced, the sun set outside the western window.  It was the last sunset the little girl's mother would see.

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A/N:  Very sad, yet at the same time, somewhat comforting.  I'm not sure why I had the narration never identify any characters, but I like the way this turned out.  Have any of you heard that…ugh…country song,  "Christmas Shoes"?  As much as I hate country, the song itself is pretty sad and moving, and since I had this idea lying around, I decided to mix the two and create this Christmas story.  So…um….there you go.  

Have a happy holiday, and remember not to be caught up in the commercialism of the season.  Remember what it all means, whether it's Christmas, Hanukah, or whatever holiday you celebrate.  


End file.
